Council contender scores improbable upset

District F's newly elected Richard Nguyen admits he didn't fully know what went into being a Houston city councilman or if it truly was a full-time position.

District F's newly elected Richard Nguyen admits he didn't fully...

From the opaque world of local Vietnamese politics comes a story as old as American politics, as inspiring as a Frank Capra movie, as bittersweet as the lost war that haunts a generation of aging immigrants who were given new opportunity at a painful price.

It is the story of Richard Nguyen, who emerged from obscurity as a lower-level civil servant into the spotlight of the Houston City Council with an improbable election victory last week. The 50-year-old city employee had no campaign war chest, or even piggy bank - his two modest fundraisers ended up with a negative net balance - but he managed to oust District F incumbent Al Hoang, whose controversial two-term tenure finished 196 votes shy of a third.

"He defeated himself more than I beat him," acknowledged Nguyen, who works for the Dumpster Inspection Branch of the solid waste department. "I was never confident, but I had faith. I had no money, but I had motivation. I am surrounded by sincerity over sycophants. People saw how real I am, how much of a mission I have. I promised them I would honor them instead of hustle them."

Sending a message

Translator

To read this article in one of Houston's most-spoken languages, click on the button below.

When the last ballot box was counted, the job was his - to everyone's surprise, him included. Nguyen had no plan or agenda. He said he was not too sure what was involved with being a council member, or whether it is truly a full-time position. Nor did he realize that a council member's pay, $62,000, would give him a $20,000 raise. He still talks about needing some part-time gig that will help with bills and a $10,000 campaign debt. He and his wife have two children, a mortgage and no room to splurge.

In truth, Nguyen had no business jumping into politics so seriously. But the people in Houston's Vietnamese community who asked him to run were dead serious. They did not expect to unseat Hoang, but they wanted his attention. He had angered them, dishonored them, failed to respect their wishes, Nguyen said. This being America, accountability can be imposed at the ballot box. So Nguyen said yes and started knocking on doors.

"I hesitated, but no one else would step up," he said. "So I told my family you won't see me for two or three months. It was grueling, very hard. But I was determined that win or lose, I would send Mr. Hoang a message that we are not going to lie down and let you walk all over us."

Upset electorate

Nguyen's biggest resource was a reservoir of ill feeling toward the incumbent, who did not return calls seeking comment for this story.

There were accusations - never proved - that Hoang had misused funds intended for a Vietnamese community center. There was a lawsuit he filed to evict a nonprofit organization from a building it shares with another organization. There were claims that he had forged signatures on a petition to change the name of the street he lives on. And there were widespread complaints about an attitude of condescension and arrogance displayed toward the Vietnamese community in both public and private.

Even worse, much worse for the older generation of Vietnamese refugees who escaped the country after the fall of the South Vietnam government in 1975, was Hoang's trip to Vietnam in 2010 and his polite participation in a reception for a visiting dignitary from the country. What outsiders might see as a reasonable economic development trip or proper show of respect to visiting foreign dignitaries can look like betrayal to those who still carry the burden of great loss.

Hoang complained of tactics and rhetoric that smelled of McCarthyism, also claiming he had received death threats. For some Vietnamese elders there is no room for moderation. Vietnamese media in Houston amplified any and all complaints against him. His detractors hoped someone with wherewithal would run against him. Ultimately they had to settle for a virtual unknown who calls himself a "wallflower" whose daily campaign efforts could not start until he clocked out at work. His only political experience was volunteering to help a previous candidate who had run against Hoang.

'I stood out in the heat'

District F on Houston's southwest quadrant is not majority ethnic Vietnamese or even majority Asian. With Alief and Westchase among its largest neighborhoods, Hispanics dominate the demographics, though the Vietnamese tend to be more politically active.

Nguyen looked at recent elections and realized that he only needed a majority of the 5,000 to 6,000 likely voters. His strategy for getting them was to meet as many as he could one-on-one. He hoped to convince them that he would be much more accessible and respectful of community opinion than Hoang.

"He didn't show up and campaign," said Nguyen, whose "organization" consisted of about a dozen volunteers. "I stood out in the heat and the rain and talked to people. I was soaked through by storms, darkened by the sun, but I was out there every day. I wore out two pairs of shoes. It's an old-fashioned way of doing things, but it was effective."

'It was a bombshell'

On Election Night, the early voting gave him a lead of 230 votes. But early returns can be deceptive. With more than 6,000 ballots cast in the district, the advantage could quickly dissipate, and veteran city politicos likely expected exactly that because incumbents typically prevail. But it never happened.

"It was a bombshell," said veteran journalist Mai Loan, who has written for numerous Vietnamese newspapers in Houston and Southern California. "No one could believe it. But Al Hoang had antagonized so many people in the Vietnamese community that they got someone to run against him. Then they vented their frustration."